the last damn clam

On Sunday I had to take Andy back to our hometown. I had to work the whole week ahead and he was going to visit family and friends. We were going to a surprise birthday party for his mom at his brother's house, but we stopped for lunch first. We each had a big lunch and Andy kept getting his coffee refilled to the equivalent of about 3 cups.

So we get to his bro's, and the relatives and friends start filing in one by one. His mom is surprised every time someone new comes in, and that is really the joy of the day, for me anyway. It's not that Andy I weren't getting along or I wasn't having fun. I find his relatives as interesting and wacky as he is.

But I'm sorry, I just have a problem with Andy's relationship with food. I know that being raised in an Italian family, food = love. But this seems extreme to me. He ate 3 heaping plates to my one. THEN the steamed clams came out. And he had 2 plates of those. THEN he went out to the grill where his brother was steaming them. Andy proceeded to eat them as soon as they came off the barbecue. I discovered this when he had disappeared and I went looking for him.

So I eventually say to him wow, do you think you've had enough clams, honey? And he kind of brushes me off. A few clams later I said really, Andy, can you please stop? This isn't good for you. He says OK darlin' and takes a break. No sooner he says that then he grabs another one. I walk back into the house. He doesn't follow.

I felt hurt. And not only because he thought so little of what I had said, and he blew it off, but because I see his excessive eating as a health issue. It's like an addiction--he can't control himself. He eventually wandered back into the house and asked if I was mad at him. I half jokingly ignored him and he followed me around and said he was sorry and that he loved me. He reminded me of a 5 year old. I knew he wasn't sorry, and he'd eat more clams as soon as they were ready.

All I could think about was him dying on me. In my heart I wanted to tell him I don't want you to die, but my mind told me to shut up becasue I was probably just being overemotional. I did feel sad and disappointed. I left soon after that and drove the hour + home in silence.